A Life Less Wonderful
by mystic roses
Summary: [Trory: Future Ficlet]-It is often said that you hurt the ones you love; most do it intentionally although some are unaware of their actions. Those very few are oblivious..until they experience for themselves the power fate has to turn things upside down-


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Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to the WB etc etc..

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Pairing: Tristan and Rory

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Rating: PG-13 for mild swearing

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Authors Note: Hello, back again with this short story that was started a LONG time ago. This was half-made before I even wrote the first chapter of Broken Road but due to my complete involvement in that fic, I had to abandon this one just so I could complete it. But BR is finished now and it's the holidays (* sigh* going back to school next week) so here I am.

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This fic is going to be my take on the whole 'Rory getting pregnant when she's older situation.' It was originally intended to be ONE whole chapter but it got way too long so I had to separate it into two. Oh yeah, and a few notes just before I go:

*Tristan and Rory are **married – **if you want an inkling as to how they did, read BR but hardly any references are made and this fic **stands alone** in it's own right so I wouldn't highly recommend it. 

*Some facts _will _be made up just to suit the story.

*Rory has kept her last name only for professional purposes; e.g her job.

*Just keep in mind when those maddening moments occur, Tristan and Rory are not perfect—I really tried to make them as _in-character_ as possible but then again this is a **future fic **so I had to rely on my opinion of how they were going to be like when they're older.

Now, onto the story…=) -Kay

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P: 01

A Life Less Wonderful

The glaring rays of the newly risen sun found its way through an open glassed window, illuminating two grinning figures as they sprawled on a bed, legs unconsciously intertwined as they both half-heartedly tried to quell a minor disagreement.

"I still think we should name him after me. I mean, who wouldn't want a sexy name like Tristan Dugrey ?" the man argued his case, earning a raised eyebrow from the woman beside him.

"Sorry to _ruin_ your parade and completely shatter the high opinion you obviously have for yourself, but not everyone's aspiration in life is to be blessed with your _absolutely fabulous_ name," his wife quipped as she tiredly rubbed the sleep from her eyes with the back of her palm, " And are you kidding me ? Doing that would only increase your already massive ego and to tell you the truth, I can hardly put up with you as it is-"

"Hey…"

"-And what makes you think its going to be a boy huh ? " she continued, oblivious to the fact that she had just got interrupted, " It could very well easily be a girl"

"O-kay…" he slowly conceded deciding that arguing with a pregnant woman was a no-win situation, "so _what if_ by some form a miracle that it happened to be a girl. What ingenious name are you planning to call her Einstein ?"

Deciding to turn a blind eye to the evident sarcasm in his question, she brought her own hand up to rest upon his before craning her face to the side to gaze lazily into his stormy blue eyes " I like the sound of Lucy"

Tristan let out a snort of laughter, effectively ruining what was supposed to be a romantic moment. " Lucy?!" he cried, " might as well call her _Lollipop_ or something else as sickeningly sweet" 

She tried her best to display a convincing frown but her amusement proved too powerful and it showed by the way the corners of her lips upturned, passing off as a small smile. "As opposed to being named after a parent ? Oh _please_ Tristan, it's a bully's dream."

"But you were named after your mom and you came out of your adolescence relatively unscathed."

"You sure?" she countered cryptically, prompting his full attention, "Because I can still recount a certain _Mary_ calling incident that pretty much dented those years. "

"Oh c'mon" he murmured against her neck, planting tiny kisses leading to her mouth in an attempt to try and pacify her swinging moods, "I know you loved it"

Rory rolled her eyes at his irritating yet frustratingly cute smugness and detached herself away from his grasp as she let out a yawn, stretching out the tiredness of her limbs at the same time. " Yeah, being called the Virgin Mary behind my back was the best experience of my life"

Before he could even think of wisecrack to match her own, the distinctive sound of a phone ringing caused him to abort his notions.

Rory's right arm instinctively flew to the side to make a grab for the offending object but was held down by Tristan's impending voice, mumbling in her ear, "Don't answer it." She turned around to give a look of confusion. "_Please,_" he amended pulling on an intentionally sad face, hoping to get through to her.

At the sight of his hilarious expression, Rory felt the urge to give in to his request but backed out on an eerie premonition**,** foreseeing that it could be her boss waiting on the other line to give her the news she desperately wanted to hear. " But it might be Alyssa" she regretfully replied, diverting her focus onto the phone, not wanting to witness the disappointment on his features.

"That's what I was afraid of, " he whispered to himself, getting the confirmation of his suspicion as soon as he heard Rory's delighted scream piercing through their dead quiet room. 

As the conversation came to an end, he resigned himself to hear the predicted declaration that was inevitably going to be told. He didn't have to wait long. 

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"I got the job!" Rory exclaimed, waiting for the sudden burst of accolades or even the hug that she had psyched herself up to expect.

It never came.

"Congratulations," he finally replied in a grave, unemotional voice, "I hope you're happy." Seeing the crestfallen look on his wife's face as soon as he uttered those inhospitable words, instantly made his senses conflict with guilt. He hastily got up to head towards the bathroom sink, not trusting himself to withhold another scathing remark.

"Look, Tristan, I know how you felt about all this—"

"Yeah and I have a right to feel that way don't I ?" he countered, turning on the tap before splashing the freezing cold water against his face in one swift motion, " I mean, that child you're carrying is just as much mine as it is yours"

"Well, _of course_ it is"

"Then you should understand the fucking concernI felt when every waking hour of yours was being spent _working_ in that office, pining for this- this, _t.v journalism_ job --"

"But hey, I got it in the end didn't I ?" she calmly replied, forcing him around to face her as she unsuccessfully tried to wrap her arms around his waist—an act marred by the sizable swelling of her stomach.

He sighed, feeling the frustration slip away by her soothing touch. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against hers and murmured an apology, "I'm so sorry Ror. It's just that—" he paused to think of the right words to say," doing what you did… being under all that constant stress could've seriously put our child in danger"

"I know that. But look at me, " she insisted, bringing a hand up to lift his slightly stubbledchin, " I'm perfectly fine. And besides, it could have been so much worse if I didn't decide to give up coffee"

Despite himself, Tristan let out a burst of laughter earning a mocking glare from his wife, " you make it sound as if you did it out of your own free will. Lorelai and I had to practically restrain you from it" 

"Oh but she had other objectives. It was pretty damn obvious that she wanted the coffee to herself, " Rory joked, smiling at the memory. But it soon waned as she suddenly remembered the other piece of information she had forgotten to tell him.

"Tristan, honey_, sweetie_ …" she began nervously, the tone of her voice now devoid of any amusement, " I have to go to work today to pick up the overview for my job requirements next semester… "

Expecting the worse for his reaction, she was surprised to hear him simply remark "But it's a Saturday"

"But I'd only be gone for a couple of hours--"

"-- and you're six-and-a-half months pregnant."

"And _you're_ acting like an over-protective parent"

"Just practicing _sweetie_, " he replied condescendingly with a trademark smirk, elicitinga playful shove in the ribs from a lady who surprising had a good swinging arm on her," but seriously, I'll drive you there"

"No" Rory defiantly replied, heading out the bathroom door and downstairs towards the kitchen " I know you have an important meeting with a snotty bunch of company directors soon, so you might as _go_ keeping in mind my _promise_that I'm not even going to take that long."

Admitting defeat, he realised everything she said was true—right down to the over-protective comment. 

But he couldn't help it. He loved her and the growing baby she was carrying to the point where it almost became redundant. 

As much as he tried to keep those cringe-worthy, sappy thoughts at bay, this girl managed to break the resistance by performing the simple act of just being in his presence. 

A feeling which at first terrified him.

This fear almost single-handedly brought an end to their relationship – but, unbeknownst to them, _fate_ had other plans.

Plans that were still yet to reach the end of it's path.

"Just come back home soon okay ?" he reluctantly gave in with a sigh, embracing her in a hug from behind as she innocently munched on a piece of toast that contained every possible spread they had. 

She inclined her slightly to the side, lovingly caressing her cheek against his. "Believe me. There's no-where else I'd rather be…"

*

Rory hobbled out of her car, grinning widely at the expense of her previous inane idea of driving Tristan's beloved Mustang instead of her practical yet reliable SUV. But when she took into the consideration that her dear husband would chuck a fit at the sight of a single scratch not forgetting the fact that she was in _such_ a fragile condition, she smartly concluded, after much deliberation, that the conventional choice was the only way to go.

"Oh, the sacrifices I make for you little one " she whispered to her unborn child, making her way inside the Hartford headquarters of National Geographic Magazine.

The second she got in, an involuntary shiver ran through her body as she felt a waft of hot air encompass the diminutive building. She could already sense the sweat drops forming against the layers of clothing she had on but pushed her discomfort aside to concentrate on getting the overview. 

Walking down the few paces that led to the small elevator, many of Rory's busy co-workers took a second out of their workload to give her the occasional wave or a fleeting smile, actions that showed the fondness they felt for their 'baby.' Although she was at the very adult age of twenty-six, being one of the youngest in the team apparently warranted such name calling.

Reaching the destination, she waited for the metal doors to slide open before stepping in and letting out a pent up sigh. 

"You know, I'm still going to call you Lucy," Rory said quietly, deciding to strike up a one-sided conversation with the child, a habit that eventually became routine during these past couple of months. " Oh and there's no need to worry about being called Tristan," she reassured with a gentle pat of her stomach, " I have complete faith that you're going to be a girl…"

As if on cue, the doors flew open at that exact moment, signifying its arrival onto the second floor where her boss' confines was situated.

Once again, Rory felt the perpetual heat she had experienced earlier surround her but instead of dismissing it like she did before, a sudden infliction of unbearable pain shot through her body; pain that was impossible to ignore. It would've sent her down to her knees if it wasn't for the nearby door handle of Aly's office that offered the support she needed to keep upright.

But it was all too much.

She hunched over; one hand clutching her stomach, the other holding onto the handle as if clinging to dear life. Then, as abruptly as it all started, it quickly subsided in the same manner, leaving Rory to recover in the wake of what she believed to be her baby's first tantrum.

"Whoa," she whispered shakily once her breathing began to regulate back into its usual pattern, "You really don't want to be called Tristan that much do you ? " She then made an effort to compose herself by straightening up and plastering a smile before she walked into the room, looking nothing like a person who was on the verge of collapsing just moments before. 

"Gilmore!" Alyssa Germain cried, rushing over to give Rory a hug as soon as her employee stepped into the office. She then gently pushed her back at arms length before lightly commenting on her observance, "Wow the bump has gotten a lot bigger since the last time I saw it"

Rory feigned a small smile, replying in a deadpan voice, "It's only been a month"

"Well my dear, a lot can happen in one month-- as you may already know. "

The expression on the younger woman's face instantly brightened. "Thanks to you, I think I'm one step closer to being the next Christiane Amanpour" she beamed, referring to her childhood dream which she made no effort to keep a secret from those who knew her. 

"I wouldn't even think twice about giving the job to anyone else," Aly responded distractedly, her wise-old features assembling to form a look of confusion as she hurriedly attempted to locate the overview. Letting out a mental '_yes_' upon the discovery of the bookletin her drawer, she then more attentively continued," You have a tough job ahead of you Gilmore— but hey, its what you've always wanted…"

The tone of Aly's voice hinted that it was a sordid attempt at a joke but due to her unpredictable hormones, Rory couldn't help but read between the lines. Just one glance of the thick overview in her boss' hand did nothing but further enhance her panic and send her thoughts into overdrive.

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Am I even ready for this ?…

…Am I prepared for the inevitable strain that it'd put on my marriage ?

Am I willing to go long hours without seeing my child?… 

But it was this one simple question that would prove to have the most effect on her:

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...Is this **really** what I want ?

Being the perfectionist, organised type, Rory had her future planned out by the time she even reached high school. Too busy carrying out her mental itinerary, she never paid attention to the growing restlessness that stifled inside her.

…But now, facing the possibility that maybe this career move wasn't one of her best ideas, Rory didn't feel too sure of herself anymore.

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Before she could even bring light to this realisation, the sharp abdominal pains unexpectedly returned—but this time in full force. "Rory!" Aly cried, rushing over to her as she placed a comforting hand over her stooping figure , "Are you okay?" 

But it fell upon deaf ears. 

By now the pain became even sharper, her breath intake more erratic – and it showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. 

"Call…Tristan…"was all she could manage to utter as she felt the grip on the wooden desk she was clutching onto slowly starting to loosen its grasp.

A few seconds later, after the last ounce of strength she had finally lost its steam, she fell to the floor amidst the puddle of her own recesses, feeling as if the walls in the room were caving in on her.

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'But it's too early…'came the only sane thought that registered through her clouded, confused mind_ 'It's too early…'_

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*

He rushed over to Hartford Hospitalas soon as he received the frantic call from Aly telling him that Rory was in labour. 

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"But it's too early !" he also cried, effectively holding the attention of every single occupant in the conference room—including his father. _"what's wrong, son ?"_ he anxiously asked, detecting the unusual panic in Tristan's normally faultless voice. 

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But the young man was already out the door, taking with him the adrenaline of a person who was in a life or death situation, as he sped off in his car and headed towards the hospital.

The adrenaline took a sudden nosedive as soon as he found himself edging closer and closer to his allocated destination.

His feet felt like a ton of bricks, each weighing him down as if it's hidden agenda was to prevent him from reaching the room where Rory was located**.**

He probably experienced every possible feeling there was imaginable: he felt nerves, he felt excitement but most of all…he felt fear.

Visibly cringing at his outright cowardliness, he did everything he possibly could to drive the thought away…But then he spotted Lorelai and the feeling lurched back at him -- but this time it remained, proving to be a permanent fixture.

It unnerved him to see her beautiful face, normally full of life and vitality, stained with the transparent tears that were streaming down her cheeks. What disturbed him even more was the sight of her 'solid-as-a-rock' husband Luke, sitting quietly beside her – he too in a similar state.

Both of Tristans in-laws could feel his presence drawing near, but neither could bring themselves to be the one to burden him with the terrible news. But as the tension between the two became almost unbearable, someone was bound to concede.

"I'm so sorry, honey " Lorelai whispered, reluctantly giving in to be the bearer, beating Luke by just a few seconds in the process. 

Tristan froze, feeling the bile rising through his body, threatening to be released but was systematically stopped with every possible restraint he had. 

It was all because no elaboration was needed to know the meaning behind those words.

He already knew.

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When Rory woke up, her vision was blurred—until her heavy eyelids closed back shut, catapulting her sight back into complete darkness. It abruptly flew back open at the sense of a cold hand…_his _cold hand encasing hers.

The anaesthetic was beginning to erode but it still showed evidence of it's presence as she groggily asked, " where…where am I ?" Even though she was unable to make sense of her words, she was still capable enough to detect that her surroundings were not entirely familiar.

When no answer could be heard, she tilted her head slightly and followed the trail that started from his hand…and ended on his handsome face—a face shockingly marred by the signs of fatigue, sadness and worry. "What's wrong ?" she softly questioned, her mental panic alarm now starting to blare loudly.

"Ror…"He gently responded, sub-consciously pushing back a few stray hairs away from her face, "You're at the hospital"

No sooner as the startling revelation dawned on her, the right hand that was previously in the hold of his, tore itself away to rest upon the first thing that surfaced upon its owner's mind.

And then came the most shocking realisation of all: her stomach was as flat as a board; _desolate_…_empty…void…_

"Wh -where's my baby ?" Rory stuttered, her voice slurred with the held back sobs she desperately tried to withstand.

Tristan turned away, unable to fathom a single word. 

It was because he was stuck: stuck in the middle of an invisible crossroads as each option pointed towards two different directions: tell her…or lie to her.

"They told me they were going to take care of our child…" she rectified distantly, bringing an end to Tristan's reverie but unknowingly falling into a sorrowful contemplation of her own.

She could vaguely remember the doctors, busily hovering above her lying figure as they all re-assured her that once the caesarian section was completed…everything would be fine.

She took solace in that one, comforting memory.

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"…Everything would be fine," she continued determinedly, mirroring her thoughts to convince not just her husband but to her own delusional self. 

Silence then pervaded the room. "No…nothing is" came Tristan's lame reply a moment later, finally reaching a decision of his dilemma after painfully witnessing the false hopes that his barely-recognisable wife had indebted upon herself. But it was getting out the next few words that proved to be the challenge-- harder than any choice he had ever made."They did everything they could…"

Her ice blue eyessuddenly widened with fear. "Wh-what do you mean ?"

"She was just so…so tiny"

Rory shook her head vigorously, stubbornly refusing to believe what she was hearing. "No…"she whispered, feeling as if she was stumbling dangerously close onto the edge of delirium. Shakily, she came to her senses and regained her composure back, only to repeat in a much louder, almost desperate voice, "NO"

Tristan immediately engulfed her in a hug, feeling her lithe body go limp against his protective embrace as he vainlytried to shield her away from all the pain…from all the hurt. 

But he too was suffering. 

Suffering beyond repair. 

"It's going to be okay…" he muttered against her ear, determined to not let his emotions overtake his conclusive resolve: _there is no choice but to stay strong…stay strong for the both of them._

Rory closed her eyes, clinging onto him fiercely as if he was the only person in the world she had left. Her body continued to wrack convulsively with the heartfelt sobs, in rhythm with the tears she barely noticed trickling down her deathly white face.

She didn't even pay heed to the fact that she had just won the heavily argued topic over the gender of their child.

All she could think about was that she'd never get the chance to see her little girl smile…see her laugh …see her cry…see her _alive_. 

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in the concluding chapter: explanations and confrontations of feelings will be made…and someone seeks solace in an unlikely source…

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tbc


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